Hopeful
by Deaf Center
Summary: Setting: Modern High School. Riku's a gay basher and his favorite person to pick on is poor lonely little Sora. Or is it all just a show? Yaoi, and rated for content.


Setting: Modern High School. Riku's a gay basher and his favorite person to torment is poor lonely little Sora. Or is it all just a show? Sora 1st person POV This is boyxboy and rated accordingly.

I own nothing.

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It's funny, hysterical really. How much of a fucking hypocrite he is. You can hear him now, talking, laughing with his guys. He's cracking another gay joke; he loves doing that. And it pisses you off. Because you know the truth, you know who he really is. And he walks over to you, that smug grin on his face, his friends behind him.

"What you got there fairy?"

You don't respond. You look down at the object in question; it's just a book. But a book was all it took to set him off.

"I asked you a fucking question."

You grimace, his spittle hitting you in the face, despite the fact that you were looking down. Next thing you know, he's got you dangling in the air by the front of your shirt and you lock eyes. You silently plead with him, begging him not to do this. Because even with all he's put you through, you fucking love him. And it hurts bad, real bad. But that love is what keeps you forgiving him, keeps you opening your window for him at night, keeps you sobbing his name as he pounds into you, keeps you murmuring your love for him as he orgasms deep inside of you. It keeps you going really, you realize as you feel his fist collide with your cheek. You cry out in pain, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.

And then he lets you go, dropping you back to the ground. And you wonder why; hoping maybe he felt something for you in that moment. It's stupid to think that, but you can't help it.

You're crying now, picking up your book and slinging your back pack over your shoulder and exit the building. You silently thank god schools over, so no one will see you cry. You told your mom you'd walk home today, somehow you knew he was going to mess with you today. You didn't want her to pick you, and see you in that completely awful messy state you were often in. You'd have to find some explanation for the bruise on your cheek, but you'd worry about that later.

It was a chilly day, now you kind of wish you'd let your mom pick you up. But if you froze to death on the walk home, that'd be ok with you.

You're so wrapped up in self pity you almost don't hear the car horn honking at you. You look up, surprised. It's him, smiling at you like everything's ok. And you smile back stupidly, lovingly. He waves you over, offering you a ride. You nod, accepting. And you're in his car, pleased it smells like him. You clutch the book to your chest, and face the window the whole time. You don't want him to see the damage he's done, it might upset him.

"I'm sorry about earlier, the guys were pressuring me and…"

You tune him out, but nod, saying you understand. You'll always understand.

He doesn't take you to your house, instead you go to his place. He's 18 so it's legal for him to live alone. You're glad, because you'd be embarrassed for anyone to see you. They'd probably think you were his social charity project. You were pathetic enough to fit the part.

You're hardly inside the door when he presses his mouth roughly against yours, and you forget everything you were thinking about. You drop your book and let your back pack slide to the floor as he attacks your neck with his lips and teeth. You whimper, loving his touch, loving any attention he gives you, even when he's kicking the shit out of you. But you couldn't take it if he ignored you. That would kill you more then anything else he's ever done to you. At least this way, you know he sees you.

You let out a little gasp as he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and makes a beeline for the bedroom. You crash onto the bed together and you can't help but giggle. He chuckles; you shiver. You love that sound.

But the time for laughing is over, as he's quickly undressing you, practically tearing off your clothes. You beg him not to tear anything, you already have to explain the bruise on your face, at least your clothes should still be intact. You don't voice that second part though, just ask him to be careful. He rolls his eyes, but takes his time. And then your both undressed; you reach out a hand tentatively, touching his perfectly chiseled chest.

Fuck he's beautiful and perfect. Everything about him is perfect to you. He leans you back ever so gently and says your name, like he loves you. And you nearly cry because it's so sweet. But you keep it together, theres time for crying later, when you're alone in your room.

He's prepping you, fingers scissoring in your hole, stretching, searching for the spot that'll make you see stars. You let him know when he's found it with a choked cry of his name. And he smiles at you, he doesn't smirk. And that warms your heart because you love his smile. And it leaves you hopeful, so stupidly hopeful.

He's inside of you, in one swift push. Your screams are loud and you try your hardest to quiet down. You know he doesn't like it when you're too loud. But sometimes you can't help it; he feels just that damn good inside you. You wrap you legs tight around his waist, trying to adjust. He's looking down at you now, searching you eyes and face, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. You rock your hips up into him, letting him know it's ok to move. He begins a slow, languid pace, teasing you as much as possible. You growl at him; you want it harder, faster. And he complies, driving into you at a pace that knocks your teeth together.

You begin to feel that familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach and snake a hand down to touch yourself, but he knocks your hand away. He does the job himself, squeezing and stroking you. It's not in sync with his thrusts but that doesn't matter, it feels spectacular anyways. You mewl his name, gripping his forearms, and he looks down at you again, pleasure etched on his face. Your eyes lock. His are so beautiful, the color of the ocean, you drown in them as he drives you over the edge.

You can't help the screams and cries of his name as you come. You're pretty sure this is the hardest you've ever orgasmed in your life. And he's not too far behind, hips snapping quickly as he fucks you for all your worth. You pull him down, arms wrapped around his back, whispering how much you love him. He buries his face in your neck, groaning loudly and shuddering. You feel his essence seeping into to you and it's the most complete you've felt in a long long time.

The two of you stay like that for a while, and you dare not move, hardly breathing. He's never just let you hold him like this; it's a rare treat that you don't want to spoil. He's still inside you and you feel completely enveloped by him inside you, above you, around you. It's warm and safe; you're happy like this. Why can't he be?

He's pulling away now, disconnecting himself from you in every way. Now it's back to the regular routine. He'll have his shower and expect you to be gone by the time he's done. You don't live far so the walk won't be too bad. Except he's still sitting there, with your legs still wrapped around his waist. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time, and you can't meet his gaze. You don't know what he's thinking and that scares you. You're the first to speak, asking if he's ok. He shakes his head, he's fine. Then he reaches out and touches you're cheek, and you instinctively lean into the gentle touch.

"Sora… I'm so sorry…"

You know he's apologizing for everything; he doesn't have to say it all. You take the hand on your cheek into your own and kiss it. You love him, so damn much. No one could ever love him more than you do. And you tell him so. He looks like you've just punched him in the gut. He can't understand, with everything he's done to you, how you could still love him. You don't know either, to be honest. But you can't deny what you feel for him. You lean forward and kiss him, it's an awkward kiss though since you're balancing your weight on one arm, the other cupping his cheek. You aren't sure if he believed your words, but you're hoping he can feel it in the kiss. When you finally break for air, he's smiling at you.

And you're hopeful again. You like being hopeful.

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Obviously I didn't know how to end that lol.

Reviews please? I've been thinking about this idea for a long long time and finally put it into words. So I hope you liked it, and as said earlier, review please!

~GT


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